


Healing Words

by ImpishTubist



Series: Amal [4]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Kidfic, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:32:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2080419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTubist/pseuds/ImpishTubist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and Amal look after an injured Chakotay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing Words

Tom opened his eyes to find a pair of curious green ones staring back at him.

 

“Amal,” he said, starting violently. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, and then passed a hand over his face. “What are you doing?”

 

“It’s time for breakfast,” Amal said seriously. He frowned suspiciously at Tom, looking older than his seven years. “Where’s Dad?”

 

“Computer, what time is it?” Tom groaned. He rolled over onto his back, wincing as he did so. The sofa wasn’t really meant for someone to spend an entire night on, and his muscles ached.

 

“The time is 0700,” the computer informed him cheerfully. Tom patted the cushion, and Amal clambered up onto the sofa and then sat on his stomach.

 

“It’s far too early for breakfast,” Tom muttered as he rested his hands on Amal’s legs. “Especially on a Saturday.”

 

Amal shook his head. “Dad _always_ gets up at seven to make breakfast. Why is he still in bed?”

 

And then he narrowed his eyes at Tom. “Did you fight again?”

 

“That was _one time_ ,” Tom grumbled. He and Chakotay had had a fight around a year ago that had been so volatile that Tom had spent the night out on the sofa instead of Chakotay’s bed, and then when it became apparent that their issues weren’t going to be resolved in the morning, he had gone back to his own barely-used cabin for almost a week. Amal had never quite forgiven them for that disruption in his routine. “No, we didn’t have a fight. Your dad got hurt last night, so he’s going to be sleeping for a while.”

 

Amal looked alarmed. “What happened to him?”

 

“There was an accident in engineering, but don’t worry - Dad’s okay,” Tom said. He rubbed a hand over Amal’s back. They had gotten back to Chakotay’s quarters too late last night to bother waking Amal and telling him what had happened, and Chakotay had been so out of it from the painkillers that it wouldn’t have been worth it. He had gone straight to bed while Tom checked in with Harry - Amal’s caretaker last night - to make sure that everything had been alright on this end. “He’s just going to be tired for a while. And probably in a little bit of pain. He got burned pretty badly.”

 

“I want to see him,” Amal said.

 

“You will, but let’s let him sleep for a while more,” Tom said. Amal scooted off of him, and he sat up. “Come on - I can’t make breakfast like Dad does, but it’ll do. Then we’ll go in and see him.”

 

Amal finished off his breakfast of scrambled eggs and fruit in a flash. Tom hadn’t even managed to drink half a cup of coffee before Amal was done with his food and putting his dishes back in the replicator for recycling.

 

“Go take a shower and get dressed,” Tom said. Amal looked disappointed, but Tom gave him a stern look. “I need to go see if Dad is awake. Go on.”

 

Amal sighed but hurried off. Tom replicated a second cup of coffee and went into Chakotay’s bedroom.

 

He looked worse now than he had last night, which Tom had known would happen though he hadn’t managed to adequately brace himself for it. Chakotay’s bruises were more vivid, and the burned skin on the right side of his face was angry and raw. His forearms were swathed in bandages while ointment worked on regenerating the scorched flesh underneath. Scarring was going to be a distinct possibility, but it would remain to be seen whether it was permanent or whether the Doctor could restore the skin.

 

Chakotay was already awake, and he croaked, “I’m surprised Amal isn’t beating down the door.”

 

“Give him five minutes. I sent him off to shower and change.” Tom set both cups of coffee on the bedside table and perched on the mattress. “Been awake long?”

 

“An hour or so.”

 

“Pain?”

 

“Yeah.” Chakotay’s voice sounded as though his throat had been scraped raw. He had a glass of water already sitting on the bedside table, and Tom helped him into a sitting position so that he could drink from it. “The Doctor said he would stop by around 0900 to check on everything and bring another round of painkillers.”

 

The door slid open again, and Tom looked around to see Amal standing there, dressed in black pajama pants and a grey Starfleet Academy shirt that had been replicated in his size. That wasn’t exactly what he’d meant when he told Amal to get dressed, but he supposed it was the effort that mattered.

 

“Come on,” Tom said, patting the mattress next to him. Amal walked over to the bed, looking hesitant, and stood there. “It’s alright. Come on up.”

 

He helped Amal climb onto the tall bed, and Chakotay offered his son a weary smile.

 

“Did you have fun with Harry yesterday?” he asked softly. Amal crawled over to him and settled on his legs.

 

“We played Kadis-kot,” he said. “I won.”

 

“That does sound like fun,” Chakotay said. Amal was looking at his bandaged arms.

 

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

 

“Not anymore,” Chakotay said. “You can touch them, if you want.”

 

Amal laid his small hands on the white bandages, peering at Chakotay’s face as though waiting for a reaction. Chakotay lifted an eyebrow at him. “See?”

 

“Does that hurt?” Amal asked, pointing at the extensive burn on the side of Chakotay’s face.

 

“Yeah, that one hurts a bit.”

 

“Was there a lot of fire?”

 

Chakotay nodded.

 

“Was Miss B’Elanna there?”

 

“Yes, but she wasn’t hurt,” Chakotay assured. “I stayed behind too long, so I got burned. Everyone else is okay.”

 

Amal nodded, absorbing all this. Then he hopped off the bed and dashed into the other room.

 

“Well, that was heartwarming,” Chakotay said dryly. Tom laughed.

 

“He’s seven. Be glad you held his attention for as long as you did.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against Chakotay’s, drawing him into a gentle kiss. “Pull a stunt like you did yesterday again, and you’re sleeping on the couch for the rest of eternity. Got it?”

 

“Whatever you say, Tommy boy,” Chakotay said, rolling his eyes. He slid down under the blankets again and rested his head on the pillows. Tom picked up his mug of lukewarm coffee and took a sip. His other hand found Chakotay’s and held it, and they lapsed into silence.

 

Amal entered the room again and pulled himself up onto the bed without Tom’s help. This time, he was holding a PADD.

 

“What’ve you got there?” Tom asked as Amal settled between them, lying down so that his head was resting on the pillow next to Chakotay’s.

 

“I’m gonna read a story,” Amal said. He balanced the PADD on his chest and activated it.

 

It took Tom a couple of sentences to realize that the story didn’t make sense to him because Amal wasn’t speaking Standard. It took another paragraph or two for him to recognize Chakotay’s native tongue, the language spoken by his people on Dorvan V. Chakotay had been teaching Amal the language since the boy was two years old. He didn’t speak it when Tom was around, but Tom knew that when it was just the two of them, sometimes Chakotay and Amal would only speak in the native language.

 

Chakotay’s eyes met his over Amal’s head, and it was obvious that he was touched. He had gone misty-eyed, and Tom squeezed his hand.

 

Amal read slowly and carefully, and by the time he was halfway through the story, Chakotay had drifted off again.

 

“Don’t feel bad,” Tom said quietly, ruffling Amal’s hair. “He’s still not feeling well.”

 

“I know,” Amal said, looking satisfied with himself. He switched the PADD off and sat up. “He reads to me when I’m sick, and then I fall asleep. I knew it would work.”

 

Tom smiled. “Let’s tuck him in, then, shall we?”

 

Amal helped him adjust the blankets around Chakotay’s body, and then he ran off to play in his room. Tom lingered long enough to place a kiss on Chakotay’s forehead.

 

“Good job, Dad,” he whispered to his sleeping lover. “You’re doing just fine.”

 


End file.
